


Nightmare Eyes

by Exces_KaboomBOOM



Series: Gavin's a sad bitch; a memoir [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: A bitch and a mess and Niles is too he's not better, Bittersweet, Cops everywhere it's disgusting, Gavin's a mess, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Night In the Woods, M/M, background hank/connor - Freeform, cole is trans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 05:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17522948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exces_KaboomBOOM/pseuds/Exces_KaboomBOOM
Summary: Night in the Woods!AU; Gavin comes back to his small town, running away from problems only to meet with his past fears and regrets.One in particular has blue eyes locked on him, hunting his mind and heart with no mercy and no rest.





	Nightmare Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> I like to write, I think I made that clear, but original content for fanfictions is hard for me, and I think it’s because it’s kind of my actual job to create worlds etc. so it’s not that fun if I have to do it in fanfictions too. So I’m gonna stick to AUs, tbh, because it’s hella fun and freeing!  
> And also… I really have difficulties writing about cops lmao, I always want them to quit haha.  
> In Dani’s words; “Connor de Troit said Trans Rights bitch!” and I couldn’t say better words. Thanks for the proof-reading, partner!

**_Days outside the city_ **

 

The train station is empty; it is barely nine p.m., yet it doesn’t come as a surprise when you know the place. Small towns have that ability to appear dead as soon as the sun goes down on it. Gavin giggles; that’s a stupid pun, but he lives for it. 

He searches for his pack of Lucky Strike in both his back pockets, then remembers he quit a month ago. Longest break he has managed, if he recalls correctly, and it for sure has to do with his presence here.

Nobody is by the desk. The telly has been left on. The ambiance is kinda surreal, as if time were suspended. He checks his phone for any sign of concern from Hank but nope, only a dead line. 

Gavin gets out, hit all at once by the cold night wind. Its air is violently pure, so much cleaner than the polluted one from back in Detroit; he coughs, his lungs left raw. He dumps his backpack on the pavement, bending on his knees to catch his breath. Maybe his tiredness is more severe than he had anticipated. His eyes fill with tears; through it, he sees flashing lights coming his way. 

A police car stops by his side. For a second, he thinks it’s Hank coming to  _ finally  _ get him, but instead a young face greets him. White dude, dark hair and black eyes, face sparkled with beauty marks; his uniform is as clean as if it were new. Maybe it is. He reminds Gavin of an old friend he once had, as a teen — the physical details are uncanny, but the attitude has nothing in common. 

Gavin spits on the floor some excess saliva, both for effect and from a spiteful feeling stuck in his throat. He groans out; “You want something,  _ officer _ ?”

The cop shuts off the lights and engine and gets out the car. He seems friendly enough, but the spark of pity in the way he looks at Gavin immediately marks him as an enemy. 

“Detective Reed? I have been sent by Lieutenant Anderson to pick you up.”

“Couldn’t he be bothered moving his own fat ass?”

“My ass isn’t fat”, the cop replies without humor, “and I offered to do it.”

“Whatev’s, baby face, I ain’t gonna go with you.”

“But I promised Hank—“

“Well, tough shit. He can wait a little bit more. I’m gonna walk. See you later, loser.”

Gavin walks past the blue collar, proud of his dramatic departure. He almost turns back to correct the guy that he’s no detective anymore, but he judges better against it. He got his breath back. He needs to see the city for himself. Catch up on what he didn’t miss, and what didn’t change.

He especially didn’t miss the tiny town claustrophobic ambiance and its small mindfulness; on the other hand, the nature is breathtaking —  _ literally so _ . The wind runs soundly in the trees and against the buildings, animals echo in the distance, the sky is densely void. Not a soul is out there, or at least can be seen by the naked eye. He feels like the only existing man in the world. 

But also on the verge of falling. He trips on his own feet and lands face first in front of another cop car — why would a small town need so many? The pig in there doesn’t seem to give a flying shit about Gavin’s health nor whereabouts, looking at him with genuine disdain.

Gavin knows those eyes. 

Blue as a merciless sky raging storms and thunder.  _ The nightmare eyes.  _ The ones that had haunted his dreams, nightmares and wishful thinkings. 

Niles seems to recognize him by slightly raising an eyebrow. His arms are still folded over his chest, and he remains sitting in his car. 

Gavin doesn’t know what to do. What to say. How to explain his presence here, and how to wrap his head around the idea that Niles never left that  _ damned  _ town, and maybe he’s married by now — 

“Weren’t you supposed to get to Anderson’s place with Connor?” Niles breaks the silence, speaking low through the open window. Gavin is still on the ground, his nose bleeding on his NYPD sweatshirt — it was free clothes, couldn’t just throw it out only out of spite. 

“Connor? You mean baby face piglet is _ Connor _ ?!”

“We look quite alike.” Niles points, without warmth, simple as fact. 

“I mean yeah, sure,” Gavin mumbles, “but I mean, he grew the fuck out.”

“We all did.” 

There is no silence as heavy as one caused by accusation. Niles still hates his guts. ‘Cause Gavin left; he left them all behind in that shithole to pursue a career he only lasted a year pursuing. 

“At least, I assume we did.”

“You do look older,” Gavin gives out, trying a weak smile. 

“Yeah…  _ I  _ sure do.” 

The hint of ‘ _ unlike you’ _ hangs in the air like a slap in the face. Gavin jumps on his feet, and he’s done. He doesn’t have to justify himself to Niles, that —  _ that piece of shit _ with abandonment issues and a sick sense of order. They have all been in a wrong at some parts of their lives; Gavin doesn’t have to take everyone else’s shit just because he got luckier for two seconds. 

“Well, been a not so pleasure, as always. Hope to not see you again.”

“Likewise,” Niles groans too loudly, showing the first brush of a true emotion; anger, or hurt, or something else… More complex.

“Yeah…  _ Yeah _ .”

Defeated, Gavin runs off, something unspoken pressing hard against his chest.  _ Welcome home,  _ he thinks to himself,  _ welcome to fuck you town and its batch of shit memories and regrets. _

The road back home is spent in silent reflection, and long, loving glances at the stars hovering over his head like forgotten treasures no big cities can properly celebrate anymore. 

***

Hank is sleeping on the couch when Gavin arrives at his place. He strangely doesn’t have the heart to wake him up; he grabs the blanket left on top of the couch and spreads it over him. Turns off the TV, the lights, and quietly goes to the guest room upstairs. 

Laying down, eyes open as wide as in daylight, Gavin wonders why Anderson doesn’t smell like strong liquor anymore. 

***

The sun rises up early, waking farm stocks and most of the working class living up here. Still, it’s so…  _ Calm _ , compared to an international city filled with stress, small talks and overdoses. Gavin slept so soundly, he even woke up later than usual. 

He blinks at his phone; it’s almost eight. He doesn’t know what to do, today. Or any other days to come, in that regard. He feels lost; listless; without any purpose or usefulness. Could feel freeing for some; but as a coffee-freak workaholic ex-cop, he just feels like utter  _ shit.  _ Everything is wrong, and out of place. 

The last time he had crashed at Hank’s place had been on one weekend when he had burnout of a case. His lieutenant in chief at the time had ordered him a two days vacation, and fully knowing he couldn’t rest in Detroit, Gavin had reached to the only kind-of father figure he ever got. 

Hank had been kind enough, but such a mess of a man that he had been more depressing than anything; whiskey bottles laying everywhere in the house, dust piling on books and food cans. He was clearly depressed, but had denied having any problems. Later, Gavin learned that Cole had stopped talking to him after he had came out as trans to him and Hank had just… Well, he had royally,  _ cherry on top  _ fucked up. 

So what changed, since then? 

When he steps into the kitchen, following more by instinct than anything the smell of bitter coffee, Gavin feels both shy and annoyed. Doesn’t know what to say, once again. He feels like a failure. He feels like he doesn’t have anymore right to be alive, or to be demanding of anything. 

Hank is sitting by his old table, Sumo at his feet chewing on a leftover bone. He is drooling everywhere, and couldn’t care less; Gavin jumps in front of him, hugging his face. 

“Who’s a good boy? Yes you are, yes you are!”

Sumo barks happily. He is probably the only one in that whole city who likes him at least a little bit. Gavin tries to lift him up but his back cracks before he can fully succeed in doing so. 

“Hello to you too, shithead,” Hank grumbles, smirking at the rim of his mug. 

He actually looks good; still aging, grey hair everywhere and eyes forever tired by tragedies and not enough sleep, yet better than he had looked in the last couple of years. 

“Good morning, Hunky Hank. You fell like a dead sheep, last night, and I didn’t find it in me to wake you up.”

“Too kind of ya, son,” Hank chuckles. He hands Gavin a bag of store-bought donuts; he takes one, and eats it rapidly. He’s famished. “You slept good?” Hank continues. 

“Actually,  _ yeah.  _ I think the countryside air is that powerful.”

“Guess so.”

They eat in silence. The room feels hot and homey. Gavin relaxes a bit. Maybe it’s not so bad that he is back home? 

“You got plans today?”

“Not really,” Gavin admits, “maybe I’ll try to check on Tina later.”

“She works at the Eden store at the end of the street. You should surprise her for lunch.”

Gavin nods, really into the idea. He missed the shit out of her. They still kept contact, at least through shitty postcards and emails full of memes. 

“‘Heard you’ve been kind of an asshole to Connor, yesterday.”

“That snitch,” Gavin snarks, “yeah,  _ well. _ He was looking at me funny. And I needed to untangle my legs. Didn’t feel like riding in a cop car anymore.”

Hank chuckles. “I feel you, Reed. Still, he was kinda hurt. He’s a good man.”

“If you say so,” Gavin trails off, really not interested in discussing baby face’s ethics. 

At least not until he catches Hank’s expression; he’s eager about something. He’s waiting for… Agreement? Approval? Wait— 

“Hank, you dirty old bastard!” Gavin shouts and laughs. Sumo barks with him, howling loudly. Hank is red as can be, flushed, and not smiling anymore. He hides his face in his hands. 

“You’re doing one of Amanda’s boys! Oh you sneaky slut!” 

“Oh you’re one to talk!” Hank snaps back, still flustered, “And it’s not what you think.”

“Like, not just a sex thing and an actual relationship with a guy who seems all moon and stars over you? Or, like, you’re just dating him to go on double dates with Kara and Luther?”

“...the first one, you piss fuck.”

Gavin is all teeth and grin. That old bear has found love; that’s why he’s not a mess anymore. Gavin is actually happy for his friend — surprised, but still. 

“Never thought you liked them young.”

“I don’t, okay! I just… It just happened. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s not like, a mid-life crisis type of shit.”

“I get it.” Hank glares at him but notices that he actually looks serious. 

“He helped me with Cole, you know,” Hank says, voice shattering, “and everything’s still not all fixed and perfect. But he helped. Both of us, actually. He helped me reconnect with my son,  _ goddamnit _ .”

Gavin notes the use of good pronouns and name, and he feels suddenly very exposed by Anderson’s vulnerable moment. He is at a loss for words. That’s not his business, nor his story. Gavin’s glad, but also… Well, at least  _ some  _ are able to find happiness. Life isn’t that unfair, in the end. 

“I’m real glad, Hank, no joke,” he finally says. 

Hank nods, acknowledging his approval. His small smile is endearing. Gavin mirrors it, and something lifts off his chest. He doesn’t know what it is, but he feels less lost. The sun feels better, and his head calmer.

***

“Tina tiger tiny tiddies talks trash to the teachers!” Gavin shouts as he enters the Eden store. 

Of course, it’s empty. At this hour, the old folks have already gotten their groceries, and it’s too early for kids and alcoholics to get their candies or their liquor. 

Tina radiates happiness at his sight, singing back; 

“Gavin’s gay garbage groove grinds gross green gumballs !” 

Their high school greetings is as outdated as it is unpronounceable, but it’s theirs. Gotta create traditions when you don’t have any; he kisses her two cheeks with dramatic enthusiasm, and she feigns being grossed out by it. 

“What’s up, dude?” He asks, curious and shaken up by a bunch of jittery energy. 

“Not much, girl, that job’s a hellhole but I gotta make that bread, you know?”

“I feel you, I feel you,” he smiles, remembering her plan to leave town as soon as she gets enough money to catch a nice place with her sweetheart of eight-years, Stacy. Nobody’s as in love as these two. Gavin doesn’t understand nor deserve that kind of loving; must be nice waking up next to someone else who cares, though. 

“What you up to?” Tina asks, chugging a large cup of ice water. 

“Quit my job,” he replies, as emotionless as he can muster. 

“Why?” 

“It’s not a funny story, Tee.” 

Tina looks at him seriously. She can see the difference between a cautious warning and a dangerous situation. 

“Fine, keep your secrets,” she says, and somehow Gavin is both relieved and disappointed. He  _ definitely  _ doesn’t want to talk about it, but maybe talking to a friend about it could help? 

Nah, she’s not a free therapist for him to drop trauma bombs on. He’s been enough of an asshole already for two lifetimes. 

“Anyway,” Tina continues, falsely cheerful, “you back at Hank’s place?”

“Yeah,” he smiles, kind of embarrassed, “I’m squatting his spare room.”

“You think you gonna stick around?”

Gavin thinks over the question. He has absolutely no idea. 

“I have nowhere else to be,” he points out, more to himself than to her. 

They are both uneasy, now. They caught up. Tina’s going away soon, he’s staying for who knows how long. He has nothing but clothes, one last paycheck and his old, broken down Ford. 

“You up for a beer in about two hours? I’m sure Stacy would like to see you, too.” 

Gavin nods, forcing himself back into enjoyment. Nothing else matters but the present; ‘cause everything else is riddled with anxiety and unknowns. “Sure,” he says, and Tina beams at him as if, in the most perfect of worlds, nothing had ever really changed. 

***

A macabre song covers the town like a death sheet made of wet winds and dead history. The moon shines in a perfect circle in the sky, but the clouds eat most of its light. Gavin is walking alone again; nothing really changes, he realizes on repeat. Nothing changes, some people do, but ultimately events will repeat themselves. 

He wishes he could be less gloomy all the time, but depression wears his skin more lovingly than the tightest glove. 

His hands in his pockets are hiding the anxiety trembling across his every member. Something sinister is lurking over his head, but he doesn’t know what it is. Ghosts? Regrets? He lifts up his eyes but only sees the black night. 

He spends a couple of minutes fiddling at Hank’s doorstep. He doesn’t feel good going home yet. Why does he call it home, anyway? Sure, he spent some summers with him and Cole working by the river on construction sites, but he didn’t grow up here. He never got a home. Gavin doesn’t belong anywhere. He never did. 

He catches through the living room’s window Hank’s profile, and another one’s face. Connor is here. 

The realization chills Gavin’s blood. He is intruding on Hank’s routine; he is not welcomed. He is  _ too  _ much. 

He walks backwards and decides to go back to the station. No train could take him somewhere else at this hour, but the feeling of  _ possibility _ could be enough to calm him down at least a little bit. 

He is clearly underdressed in the cold weather. Tina insisted on him staying for dinner; they had gotten pizza and watched a horror movie. Stacy had been happy to see him, but she had looked worried. As if… As if Gavin was able to put in danger their shot at a best life. As if he was a variable; a risky liability. 

Nobody wants him. 

He doesn’t want him either. 

Passing around the last block of houses, he ends up at the entry of the woods. The lights have stopped a few steps ago. He can barely make out each tree from one another; it is dangerous to step in there at that hour, even all grown up.

As if hearing his thoughts, a voice rises behind him; 

“Wouldn’t go there if I were you.”

Niles is standing at the foot of the nearest light lamp. Must have been lurking in the darkness, like the creep he is. An unlit cigarette hangs at his lips like a forgotten kiss. Gavin hates that he knows its taste. 

“Well, good you’re not,” Gavin replies, fully aware of how lame his answer sounds.

Niles snarks, agreeing; “I’m only speaking as a cop. As a civilian, I wouldn’t give the smallest shit about your intents.”

“Good to know,” Gavin spits out, overcome by an intense desire to destroy and disappear. 

“Connor is at your place?”

“At Hank’s, yeah.”

“That’s why you out there, once more?”

“Is that an interrogation,  _ officer _ ?” Gavin spins around fully, not walking in his direction but holding his gaze.

“Don’t see why it should be. Don’t make any trouble, is all.”

“Go the fuck away.”

“Oh?” Niles gets angry in one tempo, “Just like you did, Reed? You’re so good at that, you’re a real  _ ace _ at  _ leaving _ things to  _ rot the fuck away _ .” 

Guilt rises at Gavin’s throat; it burns his nostrils, at his eyes. He clenches his fists, cold sweat sliding at his neck; a deadly, unseen embrace closes around him, threatening to smother him at any second. 

“Why did you come back?” Niles asks, after a moment. Is he curious, or fishing for more intel to help him hurt harder and better?

“I don’t think it matters.”

“Maybe it doesn’t,” Niles concedes, “but maybe I want to be the one to make the decision,  _ this time ‘round. _ ” His tone sprays like acid. Gavin steps back, on instinct. 

He prays for a distraction to happen, to take him away from this; there is no answer to his plea, nor god listening. 

“My partner shot a kid.” 

His voice is thin, barely audible over Nature’s voices and movements. 

“He shot him, and the kid survived, so the department decided to cover it up,” Gavin is looking at his shoes, not afraid to cry because he forgot how to years ago, “...they said the kid had a gun. Was threatening us. He wasn’t, of course. Said so himself.”

“That’s... messed up.”

“I went to a local newspaper to spray the word out, uploaded my body cam on the web to shake the story up; the cop was let out on paid vacation, and I got suspended for an undetermined period of time.”

“What was his name?”

“Who?” Gavin asks, more and more fading into his own thoughts. 

“Of the kid.”

Gavin remembers his face in the delicate impression of a dream. He was protesting police brutality; he was filming one of his friend’s own arrest. 

“Markus.”

“‘Heard about the story,” Niles simply says. No emotion leaking out. 

Gavin is the one getting angry; “Then why the shit did you let me tell you about it?!”

Niles shrugs. 

“Looked like you needed to let it out.” 

Gavin is dumbfounded. “I don’t get you, man. It’s always hot and cold with you. What’s your deal?!”

Niles shrugs once more. Finally lights up his cigarette. His uniform doesn’t look as nice and new as Connor’s had seemed to be. His shoes are covered in mud and dried leaves. He doesn’t have his brother’s beauty marks; his eyes look colder, in the artificial light. 

“I would have stayed, you know,” Gavin says, trembling, “if you’d asked me to. I wanted to.”

“You’re full of shit.” Niles replies. Yet, he is not upset anymore; “You needed to go. You went away. Good for you.”

A thin rain falls on their heads, light enough to not wet their clothes; it hits Gavin’s face with the gentleness of someone who would care. Everybody messes up, at some point or another, and the best way to deal with it is probably to live with the knowledge of its consequences and try to do better, next time.

“Funny how I’m always the one who goes away, but you’re the one who’s always out of reach.”

“The fuck does that mean?” Niles snarls. 

His cigarette goes wasted on the concrete. 

“You always kept a distance, between the world and yourself. I never went past your walls. I tried. But loving someone’s not enough if you don’t put your whole self into it.”

Niles looks right about to burst at his face; instead, he turns his back to him and walks away. Not a single word is spoken.

The rain remains a soft cover hovering over the town. Gavin goes the other way, into the forest. Hopefully it will eat him completely, and he will go missing, but never missed.

***

The next day, Gavin finds himself taking the stairs to the top of the hill to the church. Alice is sitting by the main doorstep, hungrily reading a fantasy book about witches. 

“Isn’t witchcraft against your mom’s beliefs?”

Alice giggles at Gavin’s silly remark. “She’s the one to buy me my books, you dumb-dumb.”

“Glad to see you too, kiddo.”

He sits next to her, enjoying a little rest. He had walked most of the night, and caught a couple of hours of sleep in the back of his old, broken car parked all the way back in the abandoned parking lot. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be at school?”

“I’m homeschooled,” Alice informs him, “because Luther said the nearest school is too far anyway and he likes teaching me.”

“Nice. It’s nice, right?”

“Luther is very patient, I like it.”

Gavin nods, content. That kid has always been generous; must be because she comes from a happy family. Mostly. At least she has loving parents,  _ now _ . It’s a saying that the most damaged ones somehow manage to be the sweetest souls. Most of them, anyway.

“Kara’s in there?”

“She’s tidying up the library, I think.”

He thanks her and brushes her hair to annoy her; she takes the bait and yells after him. A calm aura surrounds the whole building. Since Kara became the town’s pastor, she made the place her own and it became a home of sharing and community. Not a lot of the towners come in here anymore, and it’s a real shame ‘cause she worked so intensely to change it for the best. 

“Pastor?” Gavin calls at the library’s entrance. 

“In the back,” Kara replies as loudly. 

She is sitting between three tall towers of books when Gavin reaches her. She smiles at him in recognition, and in welcome. 

“Gavin, sit with me.”

He does as told.

“I rarely ever saw you that obedient,” she jokes, and he feigns offense. 

“I always been the best dressed underdog out there!”

She chuckles, handing him books. He puts them back in the shelves where she points him to. And that’s how he spends a whole afternoon working with her in ordering the church’s small library, taking breaks to play with Alice and look at the city from the cliff behind the cemetery.

It is… The nearest to what he thinks peace of mind must feel like. 

“That was a super cool afternoon. Thank you for letting me stick around,” Gavin says to Kara at the end of the day, watching the sun sets on the town already getting ready to fall back in a quiet and closeted sleep. 

“You’re welcome to come help any time,” she replies, in a tone of voice that lead him to believe she understands his need to feel useful and out of his familiar groundings. 

“For real?”

“For real realz,” she laughs.

That is how he begins working at the church for free meals and a way to fight back anxiety. 

***

Hank offers Gavin to stay as long as he feels the need to. Even with Connor around, the house is big and seeing people makes Sumo happy. 

Gavin wishes he could dismiss his proposition and finds a place for himself; the problem is, he doesn’t know if he wants to stay in the town. What are his future plans, near or far sighted. 

He is on his way to a party in the woods with Tina and Stacy; he would have gone by himself if his piece of shit car could still process gas. The girls don’t seem bothered by his presence, they are as loving as always. He is the one that is convinced he is too much in their lives. 

He makes jokes all the way up there, retelling stories of his time in Detroit, making things bigger and stupider. It is so good to hear Tina laugh hard as his expense and being able to answer back to her gentle insults. Tina is the best, ok? He loves her to the bones. 

The party is more an illegal bonfire than anything. Stacy is the designated driver and Tina doesn’t drink, so Gavin is the only one of the three to have the privilege to taste the lukewarm, cheap beer provided. Eh, still free though. 

There is maybe ten to fifteen people, teens and young adults mixed together. One guy is playing an acoustic guitar; he isn’t good or bad. It is a decent distraction to the night unforgiving silence and the terror printed all over the woods when undisturbed. 

Tina has pulled Stacy to the far end of the party and they are talking, involved, as if they weren’t already living together since forever. Ugh, couples…

Gavin drinks a lot a little too fast; he is dizzy, but not dangerously so. He won’t be sick of it, but only if he stops now. 

He goes sit by the bonfire, watching the fire dance in front of him. It speaks a language that only another fire could understand, and only by coming in contact to it; fire is only understandable when touched. It gives light, warmth… But it’s gotta burn, for fuck’s sake, to be a real, fully fleshed fire. Gotta burn, incinerate, leave traces to  _ really _ speak into existence its core nature.

...yeah, he is tipsy alright.

“Hey.”

Gavin’s gaze lands on Niles. He is dressed in a nice pair of black pants, and a brown leather jacket. That man is a bombshell, should’ve fucking died for him when he had the chance to.

“Hey, kitten,” Gavin giggles back. 

“You’re drunk off light beer?”

“I didn’t drink since a whole ass time, I guess.”

“You’re a mess, Gavin.”

“Thanks, but I’ve been known, bitch. That’s no news.”

Niles sits at his side. 

“If I talk to you now, will you remember it?”

“I’m not drunk!” Gavin yells at him a little too harsh. “I won’t blackout any time soon.”

“Fine.”

A dead silence. 

“I was so jealous of you, you know.”

Gavin doesn’t know that, but he doesn’t want to interrupt him in fear that he might break the thing — whatever it is — taking shape between them. 

“You had the chance to go to the city, thanks to your heritage’s money. I envied you so much to be able to move out of here and follow an actual, life-changing career; I saw you leave and realized how stuck I was. My mom wanted us to be cops, but near her, where she could still control us. She threatened to off herself when Connor tried to move in Hank’s place, you know? We still haven’t recovered.”

Gavin had no idea, how could he? Connor and Niles are still living with their mom because of guilt tripping and suicidal threats. They are stuck on paths chosen for them, and they have to follow it or else they will lose pretty much everything they know and care for.

“That’s sick,” Gavin dares add. Niles nods, watching the fire lick a beer bottle left near its reach.

“And I thought you just left us behind because you could, because we’re not much compared to a city like Detroit and a real job like detective. I thought you were a piece of shit, yeah, but I guess I would have done the same.”

Gavin remembers the first time he had met Niles, back when they were teens; out in the woods, Connor was drowning at the top of the river, Niles trying his best to keep them both out of the water. Gavin had jumped right after them to help them out, and almost drowned himself if it wasn’t for Tina’s parents saving the day. 

He remembers thinking, the first time his eyes locked with Niles’:  _ he has river eyes, nightmare eyes. _

Love at first sight, emotional issues, no decent parent figures, betrays on repeat, and here they are at least.

“I won’t apologize,” Niles says, as in a form of conclusion, “but I admit my part of the fault in that whole mess that we are —  _ were _ . Could be easier if we had met only today, I guess.”

“Let’s try it, then.”

Niles finally looks at him; he is puzzled, and deadly serious. Gavin is, as well. He shakes his hand in his direction, smiling;

“Hi, I’m Gavin. Saw you by the fire, and I thought: damn, this guy’s eyes are unreal. He looks out of this world.”

Niles snorts at his cheesiness, but shakes his hand, playing his game.

“People call me Niles. You look okay yourself, I must say.”

Gavin flashes him a brilliant smile, and decides;  _ fuck it.  _ He throws himself over him and hugs him with all the strength he is able to gather. After half a minute, Niles hugs him back. As hard, if not harder. Gavin realizes he is crying, unsure if it is from joy, relief or sorrow.  _ Stick to the present,  _ he forces himself to focus,  _ think of right now and who is in your arms.  _

He wipes his eyes on his sleeves as fast as possible. Niles notices, of course, his own eyes uncannily shiny. They keep each a hand on the other, proximity a balm on their wounds found after years of blind searches. Can something broken in pieces be fixed? Must depend on the motivation, or the nature of the break. Some make golden sculptures out of broken vases. Gavin couldn’t wish less for them. 

“I missed you,” he lets out. 

Niles doesn’t say it, but nods in agreement. 

His lips taste like peppermint lip balm, salty sweat and fire. Nobodies can become somebodies again if treated tenderly enough; maybe the future was waiting for them in here all along. Patient and unknown, as most beautiful things in life tend to be. 


End file.
